


Never

by CasusFere



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasusFere/pseuds/CasusFere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl gets dragged into a game of "Never Have I Ever" on the pretense of learning more about human culture and socializing. Springer has no sense of shame. It started as silly crack, then wandered off into angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never

  
“Somehow,” Prowl said, voice flat, “I don’t think this is what Prime meant by ‘socializing.’”

Spring grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, this is socializing! We’re all getting to know each other better, and learning about human culture, all at once!”

Prowl gave the cubes on the table a pointed look. “I doubt that he was including ‘drinking games’ when he suggested 'learning about human culture.'”

“Too late to back out now,” Jazz said cheerfully. “Yo, ‘Breaker, your go.”

Prowl subsided with a sigh, reluctantly raising both hands with the others.

“Never have I ever...” Trailbreaker started, a mischievous twinkle in his optics as he looked over at Inferno. “Slept with a superior officer.”

Inferno laughed, putting a finger down and taking a drink. “And I might not be for a while if he overhears any of this conversation.”

Springer tossed back his own drink and grinned at Prowl’s much more subdued sip. “Aw, Prowlie, I knew you had it in you!”

“Don’t call me that,” Prowl said shortly.

Jazz put his cube back down and smirked at Trailbreaker. “Looks like you’re the odd mech out on that one, ‘Breaker buddy.” Jazz turned his optics to the ceiling in an overdramatic expression of nostalgia. “Oh, basic training. I learned so much.”

“-And some of it was even about tactics,” Springer interjected.

“But not nearly as much as the instructors woulda liked,” Jazz agreed. He raised his hands. “And on that note, never have I ever... been arrested by my own faction.”

Trailbreaker exchanged looks with Prowl. “We’re surrounded by malcontents,” the SUV said in mock resignation as the other three drank.

Springer snorted. “Hey, don’t leave Prowl out of that one!” He grinned. “For instance, never have I ever been arrested while on an official diplomatic mission to the government who was arresting me.”

“Suspiciously specific,” Jazz said, laughing.

Prowl glared at the triplechanger. “That was entirely your fault. And you should have been the one spending the night in the cells.”

Springer didn’t try to deny it. “That’s beside the point,” he said cheerfully.

Very grudgingly, Prowl took another drink, to the laughter of the others.

“Sounds like an interesting story,” Trailbreaker said.

“It is, but since Prowl here insists it’s all classified, I can’t tell it,” Springer told him.

“There’s sensitive diplomatic information in those mission files,” Prowl said stiffly.

“Sure, Prowl,” Trailbreaker said with a laugh.

Prowl turned a flat look in Trailbreaker’s direction. “Never have I ever been painted purple,” he said, voice dry as a desert.

“Oh, that’s cheap,” Trailbreaker said in mock-complaint, lifting the cube for a drink.

“Do paint transfers count?” Springer mused out loud.

Prowl looked disgusted. “Is there anything you _haven’t_ slept with?”

“You,” Springer answered promptly.

The table dissolved into laughter as Prowl’s doorwings pinned back in irritation. “And you never will,” Prowl growled.

“Ahem,” Inferno said, still grinning. “Never have I ever... interfaced with a mech while on duty.”

Prowl sighed, picking up his cube. Jazz offered a toast.

“Don’t look at me,” Springer said mildly when the others looked at him expectantly, “I wait until I’m off duty.” He paused. “Sometimes _they’re_ not, but hey, not my fault.”

“I like this game,” Inferno drawled, grinning at Prowl. “Springer’s right, it’s downright educational.”

“Sorry, Inferno,” Trailbreaker said, elbowing him, “I don’t think Red’s going to take ‘But Prowl did it!’ as an excuse.”

“Aw, you’re probably right,” Inferno agreed. “But it’ll be fun tryin’.”

“Never have I ever,” Trailbreaker started, and paused to wait for everyone to lift their hands in accordance with the rules. “Hey, Inferno! I thought you were supposed to be our resident lech! You’re getting beat out by Prowl.”

“Ain’t my fault he’s secretly a kinky slagger,” Inferno said, ignoring Prowl’s glare. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I think our officers are all secretly kinky slaggers.”

“You are aware that everyone at this table is an officer except for yourself?” Prowl asked.

“Yup,” Inferno answered cheerfully. “That’s pro’lly why I’m losin’.”

“Then let’s give you a headstart,” Trailbreaker said. “Never have I ever had a long-term relationship with a superior officer.”

“Finally!” Inferno said, taking a long drink.

“Try again,” Jazz told them, chuckling as Prowl sighed and sipped his drink again. “Never have I ever... interfaced with someone on my desk.”

“No fair, I ain’t got a desk!” Inferno protested.

Springer shrugged. “Me either most of the time.” Their cubes were the only ones that stayed on the table. “Never have I ever...” he grinned. “Interfaced with someone on a superior officer’s desk.”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched and his expression was sternly disapproving as he drank.

“I really wanna meet this superior officer of yours,” Springer told him.

“No,” Prowl said grimly. “You really don’t.”

The others laughed, but Jazz frowned slightly, watching the way Prowl’s optics had shadowed before he’d spoke.

“You just don’t wanna share,” Springer said, not at all cowed by the icy tone.

“Never,” Prowl said sharply. “Have I ever had a posting where I spent more time in a brig than I did on duty.”

Trailbreaker and Inferno doubled over in laughter when Springer took a drink.

“Cheating,” Springer chided cheerfully. “You’re the one who sent me there.”

“And you’re the one who got me arrested,” Prowl countered.

“Never have I ever,” Inferno interrupted them. “Had a sexual encounter durin’ a staff meeting.” His own cube stayed on the table, and he gave it a half-forlorn look. “Not for lack o’ tryin’, lemme tell you.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t be touching any of that high-grade,” Trailbreaker said, watching Prowl drop yet another finger and drink. “Never have I ever - interfaced on a conveyor belt.”

Springer laughed and drank. “And it was a moving experience, too.”

The others groaned at the bad pun.

“Well, I, personally, have never had a crush on a Decepticon,” Jazz said with mock solemnity

Trailbreaker looked embarrassed as he picked up his cube. Springer joined him, to no one’s surprise. “There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging an enemy’s... assets,” Springer said. “And to save poor ‘Breaker from any awkward questions, never have I ever interfaced in a storage closet.”

“Drinks all around,” Jazz called out, toasting. “Crowded, but handily located, those storage closets.”

“Never have I ever knocked a superior officer unconscious,” Prowl said when they’d all finished.

“See, now I know you’re targeting me,” Springer said in mock accusation.

“He has read your record,” Trailbreaker pointed out.

“And in this case, he was the superior officer,” Springer said agreeably. “Why do you think I spent all that time in the brig?”

“Of course I am,” Prowl said blandly. “The faster you get drunk, the faster I can get out of this ridiculous game.”

“Aw, come on, Prowl! Loosen up an’ relax!” Inferno didn’t even flinch at the frosty look Prowl shot him. “Never have I ever... had a relationship with an organic.”

“Oh, that’s gross, Inferno!” Trailbreaker shoved his friend lightly.

“Y’know, I’ve always wondered...” Springer started, then held up his hands in surrender when the others stared. “Kidding! Besides, shouldn’t we be trying to figure out who Prowl’s mystery officer is?”

“Never have I ever slept with Optimus Prime,” Trailbreaker guessed, grinning again.

“Ha, ha,” Prowl said, deadpan. “Funny.”

“Just checking,” Trailbreaker said. “Getting the obvious out of the way.”

Springer made a face. “Good thing, too. I’d never be able to look at his desk the same way again.”

“Never have I ever had a relationship that could get me kicked out of the military,” Jazz said, watching Prowl. Prowl lifted an optic ridge and took a sip.

Trailbreaker ducked his head and avoided the others’ gazes as he picked up his drink, as well.

“Wanna share?” Inferno asked.

“Not really,” Trailbreaker muttered.

“Never have I ever,” Springer said breezily, coming to Trailbreaker’s rescue again, “Slept with more than four mechs at once.”

“You guys have no idea what you’re missing,” Jazz said to the table at large, the only one to pick up his cube.

“See, this just goes to prove what I was sayin’ about our officers,” Inferno teased.

“Never have I ever drank until I passed out,” Prowl said, clearly impatient to finish the game and leave. The others groaned.

“Come on, Prowl,” Springer chided, elbowing him. “Open up a bit. Have some fun with it.”

“Some people - not you, obviously - have a sense of _propriety,”_ Prowl said frostily. His tolerance for the game had obviously ran out. Jazz watched the tactician over the edge of his cube, frowning to himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Inferno asked, grinning. “Never have I ever... interfaced while inside someone’s altmode.”

“Good one!” Springer cheered, lifting his cube before taking a long drink.

“Never have I ever interfaced with someone while inside _someone else’s_ alt mode.”

“What, and leave them out? That’d just be rude,” Springer said cheerfully. He looked over at Prowl. “So we’ve eliminated Prime - who else has our esteemed tactical expert served under?”

Prowl scowled. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?”

“Nope!” Springer answered.

Trailbreaker turned to Jazz, laughing, and was surprised to see the serious expression on his face.

“Never have I ever,” Jazz said quietly, “Been in love with Sentinel Prime.”

Silence dropped over the table as Prowl picked up his cube and drank, his optics never leaving Jazz’s.

“And that, I believe, is ten,” Prowl said, carefully setting the cube back down and standing. “And the end of this ridiculous game.” He nodded to them. “Good night, gentlemechs.” Then he turned and left, the picture of dignity, only the slightest unsteady tremor in his gait betraying him.  



End file.
